


Silken

by HDLynn



Series: The Woodmere Estate Series [3]
Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: 1930s AU, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24423865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDLynn/pseuds/HDLynn
Summary: Ezra and the reader spend a quiet night in with a good book.
Relationships: Ezra (Prospect) x Reader
Series: The Woodmere Estate Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684198
Kudos: 18





	Silken

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from: cosmicbug379:  
> 88\. "Every little thing you do, makes me want to hold you forever and never let you go." with Din or Ezra?? I think it would be cute for both so I will let you choose!

It had become a habit and rather expected that some nights in Ezra’s bed were more acrobatic in nature, while others where charmingly languid in nature. This night happened to be the latter. We had started reading books together, each of us taking turns picking a book and reading it aloud.

The most recent pick had been mine. It was one of Agatha Christie’s newest mysteries: _Death on the Nile_. I loved the authoress’ works, and I had insisted this was to be the next book I wanted us to read.

So, we had settled onto his rather massive bed. I sat nestled into the pile of downy pillows while Ezra had his limbs sprawled out like a relaxed and stretched out as a cat might. His head rested in my lap, a comforting weight as he read the last few chapters we had left.

His elocution of the written words always transported me in a visceral manner. Somehow, he made me feel like we were also on that steamer holidaying on the Nile in far-off Egypt. The glint of the water, the rustle of the papyrus plants moved by heated desert winds, the scene all came alive with his engaging honeyed drawl. 

I couldn’t help but start playing with his hair as he read, becoming bolder in my ministrations when he did not seem to be distracted by it. I took any and every occasion that I could get away with ruffling his coifed locks until they were a wild disorder of waves and curls. The heavy silken texture of the brown locks, and that one particularly marvelous blond patch, was always a delight to my senses. The blond patch was like a caress of celestial luminousness, set the hang upon the dark firmament that was the rest of his — now unruly — mane.

Ezra always enjoyed the mystery novels I picked, his wickedly sharp mind loved to try and pick part each mystery before the murderer was revealed by the amusing Belgian detective. Most of the time he was correct, but this one had shocked the both of us in how the mystery had been woven so expertly and how utterly veiled the culprit had been.

“Well,” Ezra said, setting the book down beside him onto the crisp linen duvet cover. “That was an unanticipated and yet absorbing outcome. I didn’t even think of the potentiality of the second gun if I am to be plain-dealing about my theories as to whom the culprit was.”

I hummed in acknowledgment, still playing with his hair. I was carefully swirling the blond patch into a whirl that stood up on its own, feeling rather pleased with myself at the nice little curling tip the lock of hair had acquired as well.

Ezra’s soft laughter brought me back to the moment and his sparkling brown eyes.

“Have I, of late, advised you, dear Dovey, that every little thing you do, makes me want to hold you forever and never let you go,” Ezra said, looking up at me, through his horn-rimmed reading glasses. His knuckles grazed over the line of my jaw before his wide fingertips were tracing down and then back up the column of my throat.

Catching his hand in mine, I pressed soft kisses on his careworn knuckles before I could speak, my heart full to bursting, “Then don’t let go.”


End file.
